Bring Me Down
by DiagnosisIntrovert
Summary: Snapshots into a secret love. Soulmate au where everyhting that is written/drawn on your arm appears on your soulmate's. Slight hints at sex, Alyanette


Bated breath, roaming hands. ELctrifying kisses, closed eyes. It was a sercret, but when they were in the heat of the momment, it seemed to be the world's clearest diamond. When they walked out together, she fewlt as though it was no longer a secret, as if it was branded across her face who she loved, who would entrap her and set her free, the one who would make sure that as many secret kisses, as many breathless nights together disguosed togehter would never make their love weak.

Sometimes she would have to pinch herself just to bring herself down to earth, she'd fallen on the first day that they met hard, not the shaking-knees-sweaty-palms-heart-racing type of falling, it was the typre that the Buddists said was true: meeting your soulmate, you'd feel calm with no anxiety, no agitation. FOr the longest time, whenever her mother said that, she'd roll her eyes and turn away beacuse she thought that her independence made her unloveable when it made her soulmate fall for her. Maybe it was the saying that explained how she stood up for her, how she wasn't afraid wehen that was the first thing she should've been feeling.

Under the moonlight of Paris, they woud sit and confess, lie and hold, wishper nothings in eachother's ear; they'd done it all day on their skin, now marked with faded words and drawings replicated on the other's arm, now was the time for holding, kissing and forgetting

SHe would laugh sometimes, (quietly, not loud enough to draw attention) at what appeared on her arms during the days and nights that they were seperated, torn from their other half; _'are you still trying to be in love with the agreste boy?'_

 _'why do you ask'_

 _'bc your acting like a love-sick poupping whos abt to do a gymnastics routine to imoress!'_

 _'aww you jealous? u spelt 'impress' wrong'_

 _'YES! i know what i said boi,'_

 _'I'm no boi, imma daydream'_

 _'who currently looks like shes been eating candyfloss for the last two days when she looks at a blondie'_

Some days, she'd draw her new ideas and have feedback come flying, other days, a new layout for the blog would appear, _'why are you letting me look?' 'You_ are _the desinger aren't you?'_

It was really all that she needed, the one that was her soulmate, so close that nobody would think of it, her 'crush' oblivious that he was part of her cover and her partner in resucue the onky one tha tknew her truth after asking, 'why don't we try?'

It was all out after that, and she'd never looked back, he could dance her through Paris when they needed to convince, and she would cover for him when his soulmate called for him. Perfect cover, but neither knew behind the mask.

She knew that she'd told, she'd jumped in through the window in a flash of pink ( _'we were just playing with the lamp Papa!)_ and transparent tears falling in tracks as she wailed her story as quietly as possible for a love-sick girl who'd just told a person who he rlove was. She wasn't mad, she could never be as she'd told her own cover of green what had happen. The two girls conspired that the green and the black were each other's halves, pretending just like the duet of sewing and blogging to not know , just like they were supposed to; no one was supposed to know until they were 'adults', they wondered wether there was ever such a thing or wether it was just a label so they wouldn't have love in schools, lovers oo yound, whatever that could be, love was never too old or too young to be found, just i=the majorty found theirs in the middle.

When those nights came when they were entrapped in the others arms, sweaty and desperatly, hopelessly in love, they would wispher about flowers and houses, dresses, families and love, in one of those momments that seems like it could last for all eternity and nobody would mind, everything rignt in the world. It was in those early morning showers together and their staring at the sunrise until the sun was up, their hair dry and they were runnong late; it was in those mornings, the mornings that were prepared to fill their entire day with love, that they forget that no one aside from two knew, that they weren't afrid to holfd eachother's hands and give shy kisses in emoty classes, that detention for tardiness wouldn't bring them down, that was when coming out meant nothing and couldn't be less important.

It was those days when no one was afraid of love.


End file.
